


To love me better

by GarGoyl



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Crack, M/M, Mystery, Second Chances, alternative universe, ropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9411425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarGoyl/pseuds/GarGoyl
Summary: Post season 1 AU! 150 years after Ciel’s death, the Crow demon still misses his most special contractor. But is there such a thing as the God of Second Chances or just karma being a bitch? A cracky, dark and last but not least romantic piece for my fellow author Aservis Roturier.





	1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

A/N – Hello my dear readers! It’s been a while since I wrote anything for Black Butler, but I was tempted by a certain ~~demon~~ author and here I am, with a little story dedicated to them body and soul ;))) Do not expect more than 2 or 3 chaps at most in total, it’s supposed to be short and to the point, hopefully. Also, I’ll be adding a ‘soundtrack’ to each chapter, since I’ve done this before and found it inspirational. So enjoy!

 _Warnings_ : crack, language, private jokes and some circumstantial blasphemy

 _Soundtrack_ : Skylar Grey – Kill for you

* * *

 

_“You don't know, just how far I'd be willing to go_

_You put the cracks into my moral code”_

A mess of ramparts and sharp towers loomed against the reddish sky, topping the building which happened to be particularly unsightly even by Underworld standards. It had been built in mockery of what in the world of humans would have been called a cathedral and it stood in the middle of the desolate square like a captured trophy of sorts, giving such weird vibes that even its builders had given up the idea of keeping Sabbaths inside in bad weather.       

Sebastian did not care to remember when the bizarre piece of ‘imported’ architecture had been erected or by whom exactly (or why, for all its blatant lack of purpose, endured to this day), but it had certainly been around for a very, very long time.  In fact, until a while ago he’d thought the construction so old and decrepit that pieces had begun to drop at random from its façade, mercilessly raining down on unsuspecting passers by.

The Crow demon had not thought it peculiar though until, after having fallen prey to the surprise debris droppings on several occasions, he had noticed that it was exactly _the same_ piece dropping every single time, aimed for skull crushing as if by a malevolent but nevertheless precise hand. The same piece, even if every single time the relatively tiny lump of granite would shatter upon impact with the pavement into a million crumbs. For some reason the stony ornament, which was shaped into a petite gargoyle with crooked wings, uneven horns and a bashed in snout, regenerated again and again, such that it was always _prêt-a-tomber_ on someone’s head. However, Sebastian had become absolutely certain of foul play the day the creature, instead of doing its usual trick, had spoken to him. ‘ _From up here I can see your hair thinning on the top, you silly old demon_ ’ it had stated with obvious mirth. 

“What would be the correct phrasing in this case? ‘You’re boring as heaven’?”

Sebastian sat in one of the decrepit pews which had rotted away without having ever been used and he looked up with a conspicuous sigh, acknowledging that his moment of peace was officially over. On one of the high beamers up above was perched the little stone gargoyle who didn’t have a name, just an awful attitude. ‘ _I am a concept_ ’ it had declared as a matter-of-fact, upon being asked what it was and the Crow demon had decided it was enough bad news to inquire any further.

“Do you not ever get bored?” 

“Nope! Plenty of things to do,” the gargoyle said and took to the air, launching into a rather abrupt descend which ended with its sharp claws sticking into the wooden backrest of the pew, close to the demon’s head. “And I was still hoping you’d be essentially in the same situation, that is until you came here to brood. Have you gotten yourself into some bad contracts as of late? Has everyone been much too adoring to properly shove cheesecake in your face?” (an episode far too epic to be _ever_ allowed to fade into the quagmire of history….)

The demon let out an exasperated sigh. “You don’t know a thing. And yet you know too much! Our conversations as of late have led me to believe that you must be one of those petty deities of old which still plague Underworld without purpose. Is that not so?”

“Without purpose?”

“Indeed.”

The creature fluttered its wings in annoyance and huffed. “Just because _you_ don’t see my purpose it doesn’t mean that I am without one!”

“And what might that be? Dropping on people’s heads? Spoiling their mood with a crude remark?”

 “If you must know,” the gargoyle stated solemnly, “I’ve only been dropping on your head alone, in the hopes of waking you up. You know, wake up and smell the coffee.”

How very absurd.

“I do not consume coffee, or any other beverage devised by the-“

 “I know, but whatever it is that you’ve been consuming as of late has clearly left you constipated,” the stone lump interrupted, shifting closer. “But you’re in luck just now, because it is my purpose – one of many, mind you – to pull you out of your misery! You might call _me_ an ornament, but you, Crow demon, are stuck in a dusty spot and I am to shake you from it!”  

Sebastian fleetingly wondered if he should have appreciated the creature’s attempt at cheering him up, if that was indeed its plan. Though, what harm could have been in conversation?

“Alright, what do you have in mind?”

The creature fussed some more. “For example, I find the human world quite enjoyable,” it said.

“Oh, please… I already know _everything_ about the human world and don’t plan to return to it for a while.”  

“Ha! You don’t even have Instagram!” the gargoyle pointed gleefully. “And if you had seen what I have seen on Youtube yesterday… “ Stretching its miniscule wings, it hopped from the backrest onto Sebastian’s shoulder uninvited. “Come with me to a gig tonight and we’ll have dinner!” the stone lump said, bouncing excitedly up and down, oblivious to its own weight and sharpness of claws.

“No.”

* * *

 

The club had a medium-sized hall filled with randomly placed tables around the dance floor and there was a small, chic little stage in the back, where most of the lights were concentrated. The bright red velvet curtains sparked with golden decorations, easily drawing one’s gaze away from the rest of the setting, which was mostly sunken in darkness. Sebastian found it all incredibly dull and unlike the petite gargoyle (who was now invisible but no less of a pain in the ass), didn’t think that the mushroom-shaped Galle table lamp was interesting either.

“Buy me a large pizza before the show starts,” the creature prompted impatient, and the demon was actually forced to snatch the menu before someone got to notice that the pages were turning on their own.

“Oh dear, not _cordon bleu_? And where’s my dinner?” Sebastian muttered. “Aren’t _you_ buying me anything?”

A snort very much like a cat’s sneeze resounded close to his ear. “Silly demon, I don’t ever buy anything, I find stuff for free,” the ornament said. “For I am the absolute master of making a whip out of shit! The God of it even!” A stone wing swatted Sebastian over the head, turning his face to the stage, where something could be seen stirring behind the plush curtain. “There is your dinner! Young, fresh and still alive, heh!”

****

**_To be continued_ **

A/N – prêt-a-tomber = ready to fall

And yes, this sucks hard but I’m publishing it anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

A/N – Hello everyone! I know this second chap took longer than expected – I had hoped to go through this crazy-cracky tale a bit quicker – but here I am at last with some more of that crack (crap, because ‘just be honest with yourself!’ :)))). Also, pay attention to the ‘soundtrack’, it speaks volumes and makes a lot of sense… yeah.  Enjoy!

 _Soundtrack_ : Kehlani – Gangsta; (the lyrics belong to the artist!)

* * *

 

_“I don’t want, what I can get_

_I want someone, with secrets_

_That nobody, nobody, nobody knows”_

The movement behind the curtain ceased momentarily and Sebastian wondered what it was exactly that the gargoyle had so proudly planned to present him with: probably the beat-up, depraved soul of some random dancer the creature had found particularly entertaining or something, and when confronted about the poor quality of the offering it would say that the pizza hadn’t been much either and there wasn’t even as much as a stale beer on the side.   

“Speaking of this dinner,” the demon said, “Aren’t you, as a… hmpfffft _deity_ , supposed to have some sort of work ethics?”

“You mean do I have any qualms about ripping a meal off a silly demon like you?” the stone lump asked, wolfing down a big, heavily-ketchuped slice of pizza with impressive efficiency.

Sebastian sighed. “No, that much is evident. But have you no qualms about delivering a helpless human into my claws?”

“That’s your simplistic way of looking at it now,” said the gargoyle with its mouth full. “But how do you know I’m not actually delivering _you_ to a happier fate? For I have glanced into your black little heart and found it gripped by the merciless claws of love!”

 _Love._ Now this was so supremely absurd that the Crow demon found himself unable to find a proper comeback as the lights were dimming.

A vague, intriguing tune began seeping from the sound system and Sebastian saw a couple of wide, dirty-white ribbons which looked awfully like bandages being lowered in front of the cheap red plush of the still pulled curtains, gradually entering the sole, small spot of remaining light in the room.   

And then, just before he laid eyes on the boy, that pervasive but undeclared feeling of unease which had pestered him from the very moment he and his unfortunate companion had set foot in this blasted place morphed brusquely into something else, as if _that certain memory_ which had before barely lingered on the edge of oblivion had been brought back, violently alive all the sudden.

_My young master… is here._

Crimson eyes widened in almost painful awe took in the lithe shape of the boy who might have been two-three years older now than the demon remembered him, yet none of his innocently twisted charm lost in this little change. He was still… perfect.

“Before you get your panties in a twist over this, let me remind you that this time you no longer have a contract,” the ornament observed, promptly and bluntly breaking the spell (and ruining the mood).

“How-… is this possible?” Sebastian asked, gaze still trained on the slender limbs grudgingly decorated with more ‘bandages’ around the fragile wrists and ankles as the boy was suspended above the stage literally in a knot of those unsafe, disturbing rags but looking confident as he swung momentarily upside down, lip syncing on the song with poisonous lyrics.

_I need a gangster_

_To love me better_

_Than all the others do_

_To always forgive me_

_Ride or die with me_

_That’s just what gangsters do_

“Well, all thanks to your messy table manners, I must say,” the stone lump replied, invisible claws drumming purposefully onto the edge of the already empty plate. “A fragment of his soul escaped your sharp beak and took flight, grew again into a sphere and upon the right moment, embodied itself again… or however the hell this stuff works, anyway.”

The boy was wearing only black breeches just reaching below the knee and a white shirt with sleeves rolled up the skinny arms, an eye-patch which this time really hid a missing eye, while heavy shadows which were more of natural purple than black kohl surrounded the dark blue profusion of the remaining orb. His lips were white and there was no color to his cheeks, that bony white looking oddly hollow framed by the shiny black bangs.    

_I’m fucked up, I’m black and blue_

_I’m built for all the abuse_

_I got secrets, that nobody, nobody knows_

There was something changed, different about his young master in this new form, born in another era, in another country, in completely different circumstances, even if his soul essence kept the same irresistible, undeniable, mouthwatering flavor, it was as if he’d gone down some slope of sorts, he’d become not less but a further subtone of suffering and sin had been added to his aroma, in a way which was almost… painful.  

And Sebastian did not understand this new, unfamiliar sensation of tightness in his chest, it was something alien, out of place, but surely it couldn’t have been…

“What happened to him?” the Crow demon asked absently, grimly intuiting that the blasted ornament was enjoying this newly acquired discomfort he couldn’t even name.

Another snort came from the gargoyle and the creature jumped back onto Sebastian’s shoulder. “What happened to him? You mean aside from _you_?” it chuckled. “I don’t know, some shitload, but as you can imagine, any association with your sort can only result in bad karma, or whatever the hell that’s called.”

The boy’s gaze swept over the small crowd in an alluring fashion as he twisted graciously within his rope contraption, but his one good eye obviously empty to the keen observer. He was both mesmerizing and hurtful to behold, each movement giving new, unexpected glimpses into the fading bruises and scrapes marring the milky beauty of his youthful skin.  

_My freakness is on the loose_

_And running, all over you_

_Please take me to places, that nobody, nobody knows_

Was there still, somewhere on a patch on that soul’s essential fabric, a mark left by his claws or beak, some indefinite memory of their bond which had been so strong yet so easily snap-able, just like the thin thread of the little earl’s life, cut short with one final sip, so _irreparably_ gone?  In those final moments, Sebastian had entertained, aside from the raw pleasure and satisfaction of it all, one absolutely mad thought which was bound to linger afterwards to no end – the thought that his young master had wanted, upon asking to have pain etched into him so profusely, had _desired_ to have the memory of him, of his despicable, vile demon butler etched into him for eternity, that even in death he would still-….   

Yes, this was the horrid truth, brought now in plain sight: Sebastian had devoured his contractor, as per the immovable law of his very nature, but still clung to the little earl and to the absurd idea that even in non-existence the little earl would cling to him as well. That they were…  

No.

_You got me hooked up on the feeling_

_You got me hanging from the ceiling_

The boy’s eye closed in mimed bliss and his pale lips parted enticingly as he dropped backwards with a dramatic air, barely hooked on his dainty fingers, scraped knuckles now white with the pressure.

_Got me up so high I’m barely breathing_

_So don’t let me, don’t let me, don’t let me, don’t let me go_

A bitter smile curled the Crow demon’s perfect lips, as fake and illusory as they were. ‘Indeed, my young lord, I will not let you go’ he mused. ‘I can’t let you go.’

“And so now, on top of all the other misfortunes which have befallen this poor little soul, you deliver him into my grip anew,” Sebastian concluded neutrally, but nevertheless still entertaining, now more than ever, the futile hope of making the stone lump feel bad.

“You silly demon, I have only delivered a feast for your eyes,” the insufferable creature replied, bouncing a bit to emphasize its point by means of its considerable stony weight.”Did you not hear what I said earlier? You don’t have a contract! Pheh, speaking of work ethics _you_ are unfortunately bound to…”  

“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?”

The gargoyle fussed and snorted again, fluttering its miniscule wings and digging its claws deeper into the demon’s shoulder.

“I am curious, rather,” it stated. “What will you choose this time? See how the ethical issues drop entirely on your head?”

“Indeed. Because you’re dropping them.”

**_To be continued_ **

A/N – Yes, I am fully aware that this sucks even harder than the first chap, but if I haven’t specified before, this was a private request and hell forbid that I disappoint people’s expectations :)))))


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

A/N – Hello my dear readers! I will begin by thanking all of you who have shown interest in this fic, reviewed, faved and followed despite the dubious content, it means a lot to me! I know you’re still waiting for the good part and well, it’s coming, however twisted that notion might be ;)). So enjoy this final chap!

Warnings: crack, language and private jokes (Uh… haven’t I said all that before? Probably, I’m getting old…)

Soundtrack: Skylar Grey – Kill for you

* * *

 

_“In my bed I believe every word that you've said_

_Just a kiss and you make me forget_

_All the bad, the battles we lost, the bodies we hid”_

“And you’re dropping them because you’re… how to put it? You have a soft side, I suppose,” Sebastian observed pensively, then snorted ironically. “What do you know, granite's softer than I thought!”

“Granite is not soft at all, it’s hard, inflexible and empty of essence, like that head of yours,” the gargoyle retorted with dignified calm. “I am _not_ made of granite, actually. And I have an open mind!”

The Crow demon frowned, silence stretching between the two of them as the fragile acrobat slowly descended onto the polished wooden stage, took a brief bow and then padded quickly behind the curtain, his tiny bare feet barely touching the ground. 

“Also, in my open-mindedness, I do sincerely hope that this time you won’t fuck this up,” the ornament stated solemnly and took off from the demon’s shoulder. “Have a good night.”

Sebastian flinched uncharacteristically and whipped his head in the direction the invisible creature had departed, still able to catch a few grumbled words, like ‘….even a beer! I wanted a black beer, I like it black, for Astaroth’s sake…’ He sighed, long black-nailed fingers flying up to his forehead. Fuck this up? Another bitter smile crept onto his lips – was there really any way _not to_? He knew what the gargoyle was hinting at, but it really took an empty, stony lump of a head not to comprehend the simple, abysmal fact that he, the Crow demon, was what he was and his young master also was what he was and always would be and the only thing which could ever come out of it was something inevitably short-lived, twisted in regard to both their natures and, as a result, unnecessarily painful.

This was, undoubtedly, the perfect reasoning.

But not even Sebastian Michaelis fit the sublime and unyielding frame of that which is called perfection. He may have had but one weakness, one soft spot in the scales beneath his magnificent black feathers and that was his young master’s _imprint_ , that unique feeling his soul’s taste had left behind, something to be craved indefinitely afterwards.    

‘Oh yes, you silly demon, you’re nowhere near as cool as you’re trying to come across’ he imagined the petite gargoyle saying and scowled while he dug into his pocket for a few bills to slip under the unused ashtray on the table.

* * *

 

The lights shone a bit brighter at the small bar and Sebastian was drawn like a moth to that small spot of light where the boy now sat, perched awkwardly on one of those high stools, with his back to the room, nursing a sandwich and a bottle of cheap mineral water. The demon walked up to the stool nearby and slipped onto it smoothly, resting his elbows on the shiny, worn wood and motioning to the bartender. He took his time observing the young acrobat as his drink was being poured and discovered that the boy was in even worse shape than he’d initially thought.

But still… _perfect_.

“Hello,” the demon spoke eventually, with an almost inconspicuous turn of his shoulders.

His former young master turned his head slowly in his direction, the one good eye blinking slowly as he took in the demon’s tall frame and expensive black leather jacket with a sort of shy awe.

“Hi,” he replied in a low, apathetic voice, before taking a sip of water. 

“What is your name?” Sebastian inquired, as eager and intrigued to find out more about his potential prey as if he were a child unwrapping a birthday gift.

“His name’s Ciel Leclerc,” the bartender cut in rudely. “Are you still eating that?” he then asked, pointing to the boy’s plate.

“My name is Sebastian Michaelis,” the Crow demon said smoothly, gently almost, as he observed the boy’s cautious surprise at being paid attention by a complete stranger. “May I buy you a drink? Some dinner better than that, perhaps?”

The boy - who by some bizarre, absurd, senseless and wonderful coincidence was still named Ciel – turned again, quicker this time and gave him another once-over, blinking as if he’d heard wrong although reluctance towards something familiar could be discerned in his gaze and the sudden tension of his bony shoulders. He shook his head, quickly but firmly.

“Sorry, I don’t… do that sort of thing.”

‘Neither would my young master’, Sebastian thought, delighted to guess a spark of that well-known feistiness behind the meek, polite tone of the other. Yet, while it was lovely to behold, the Crow demon had simply waited too long, craved for too long (had had his very insides scorched by that feeling of void, of _not there_ , now that he pondered upon it) to allow the young acrobat a will of his own any longer. 

“I understand,” the raven said. “However, I would very much like you to take me back to your room tonight,” he spoke softly but firmly, his eyes giving a brief flash of magenta as he did so.

He saw the boy’s muscles slowly relax into submission, but even as he nodded Sebastian was able to read in the pale, parted lips and the sudden expression the other’s face had taken the unspoken horror contained in some distant sliver of memory.

* * *

 

Ciel’s room, reachable only by a half-rotten staircase in the back of the bar, was miniscule but surprisingly neat. The Crow demon threw a curious look around as Ciel himself stood with his back stuck to the peeling wood of the door, silent and obviously appalled at what was going on against his will. He barely breathed, helplessly trapped in that state of numbness he couldn’t shake off, the deep-seated fear only adding to the exquisite scent of his soul.  

Sebastian’s inspection was brief, this place was not important, his young master wouldn’t be here much longer as it was, now that the insufferable little deity (or whatever the heaven it was!) had brought him into the demon’s path once more. He turned back sharply and pulled the boy in his arms, burying his nose in the crook of the other’s neck as Ciel turned his head away, probably fearing that this forceful stranger had wanted to kiss him.

Oh, no. For that, it was yet too early in these new circumstances.

“Young master,” the demon whispered with lips feverishly pressed against the pale skin under which pulse was deliciously rushing, “Please remember me.”

Ciel inhaled and exhaled slowly, his body limp despite the inner tension, making no move as Sebastian unwrapped an arm from around him to dig inside his own shirt and produce an object momentarily concealed inside the hold of his fingers. The old, blackened silver and the dark-blue, slightly cracked stone were cold, just like the skin they’d hung against for the last hundred years and more, cold like death, cold like the cruel void which could only be filled but by their rightful owner and Ciel flinched when the ring was slipped up his thumb.

“Remember me, my young lord.”

* * *

 

Hot winds blew under the reddish sky of the Underworld, bearing whipping, suffocating dust and waves upon waves of that infernal heat (which is called infernal for good reason, you see) and in the middle of it all, perched on a cornice of that horrid monument which stubbornly refused to bow to nature’s will to see it crumble, stood a certain out-of-place ornament, its bashed-in snout turned upwards in a sort of smile, its short wings folded solemnly on its back and all in all looking quite pleased with itself.

“Ahhhh, love always triumphs, especially with a little help,” the petite stone lump stated eventually, to no one in particular, as it spread its wings and let itself be carried away by the hot gushes of air towards the grove of black, leafless trees sheltering a certain demon’s residence.

Peering in through one of the tall, glassless windows, the ornament saw a certain former earl standing in the middle of a poorly furnished room, face scrunched and fists clenched at his sides, tapping his tiny foot against the ground while his eyes flashed bright magenta.  

 “Sebastian, this place is filthy! The air is irrespirable! Where am I supposed to sleep tonight?! And I’m hungry!!”

**THE END**


End file.
